


The impurity of strength

by Ana_Khouri



Category: Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Sharing a Bed, but hopefully a bit of context that doesn't make it all about Tessa taking advantage of her, cause they were screwed up for sure but they did care about each other, not the fluffy ending I was aiming for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-09 11:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12275325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ana_Khouri/pseuds/Ana_Khouri
Summary: Grace felt herself drawn to Tessa, hating herself for it and wondering if this was another thing that was wrong with her, another legitimation of her husband's ire.





	The impurity of strength

**Author's Note:**

> This was more or less born from this meta: http://ana-khouri.tumblr.com/post/165356593940/grace-finnegan-and-internalised-homophobia 
> 
> Because the relationship was far more complicated than Tessa taking advantage...

 

She stood outside Tessa’s door, rain obscuring her tears and soaking through her clothes to the still tender skin that was shading into bruises of deep purple. 

“Oh Grace, not again,” Tessa exclaimed as she opened the door and escorted her inside. 

Tessa reached out to her and she backed off, flinching from another blow. But Tessa never hurt her and as the other woman reached out again, slowly, she let fingers brush wet hair from her face, leaning into it, needing the warmth of someone who didn’t consider her a failure. 

“What happened?” Tessa asked softly. 

Grace hesitated for a moment, unsure, as she looked into caring eyes. Tessa’s thumb brushed her cheek and it all spilled out of her, the error, the upset, the broken things. 

“And you?” Tessa asked as she pulled up Grace’s sleeve to reveal a deep blue ring where Dermot’s hand had held her tight before throwing her down. 

She swallowed hard and Tessa moved a hand to her back, escorting her further into the house. Grace flinched in pain, remembering the hard edge of the coffee table. 

Tessa looked at her, eyes widening. 

“Let me see,” she asked gently as they sat down on the couch. 

Grace obligingly pulled her shirt up, wincing in pain. Tessa would help, she always did, plasters and anti-bruise cream, pills and makeup. 

Tessa was behind her, fingers gently prodding her skin and even though it hurt she settled into the touch, drawing comfort from the caring in it. 

“Let me get the bag,“ Tessa prompted, hand easing down Grace’s shoulder to her arm as she gave it a light squeeze. 

Grace nodded and Tessa got up, Grace immediately feeling the cold of her absence. She returned a moment later, sitting behind Grace again and tending to the most severe bruises before drawing Grace’s shirt down. 

“He didn’t leave any cuts this time,” Tessa commented as she eased her hand to the front of Grace’s shoulder, moving forward and pulling her into an almost-embrace. 

Grace turned, Tessa’s face close to her own. It was an intimacy that felt both comforting and illicit, the small thrill of it running through her as she leaned in to touch their foreheads together, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“Come on. Let me get you a change of clothes,” Tessa urged softly, carefully pulling her head away. “You can sleep in the spare room.”

Grace nodded before standing up and peeling off her wet clothes, too exhausted to care if Tessa was still in the room. 

* * * 

Tessa pulled her eyes away from Grace’s increasingly exposed skin and exited. She made her way to her bedroom, pulling out a spare pyjama set from her drawer before returning and knocking on the hallway wall to alert Grace to her presence. 

Grace peeked around the corner and took the clothes from her with a small smile before retreating, Tessa’s eyes catching the sequence of marks along her pale arm. 

Tessa had been Dermont’s friend for a long time. She knew he wasn’t perfect but she never understood the extent of his malice until she started to notice patterns in Grace’s attire: scarfs or long sleeves in warm weather, sunglasses on rainy mornings. Unable to stand it any longer she had stopped by the house when Dermot wasn’t around and made Grace take off her glasses, revealing his sins painted across her cheekbone in bold strokes. Grace began to rely on her after that and she helped hide it, helped care for her when her husband didn't, and out of it Tessa realised something that would complicate things significantly. She cared about Grace, more than she should, more than she could allow herself to. In the small hours of the night, when Grace was sleeping against her shoulder after she had fallen asleep on the couch yet again, she realised she wanted more then that - she wanted them to be together. 

She knew it was an impossible dream but it was increasingly harder to be with Grace since she realised her feelings - the casual intimacy they shared meaning so much to her that she didn’t want to ruin it by the impure thoughts that occasionally distracted her. 

She stood with her back against the hallway wall until Grace came out, feeling the touch of a hand on her shoulder as Grace emerged in the dry clothes. 

“Thank you Tessa.” 

Her voice was tired, her usual cheerful innocence marred by the physical and emotional pain of her travails. 

Tessa covered Grace's hand with her own momentarily before stepping away, Grace's hand falling from her shoulder and leaving her with a momentarily feeling of loss.

"Tea?" She offered. 

Grace nodded, following her into the kitchen. 

* * * 

Grace tried to finish the proffered tea, knowing it would ease the residual jitters, but she was still too shaken to really want it. As they sat in companionable silence she watched Tessa watch her, their eyes occasionally meeting for a moment before Tessa would look away. In those moments she felt such warmth from the other woman and part of her longed for that warmth even as it scared her. She knew Tessa was gay, it was an open secret and something that had never bothered her until now - until she felt herself drawn to her and wondered if this was another thing that was wrong with her, another legitimation of Dermot’s ire. 

“Maybe you should sleep,” Tessa suggested, as if realising Grace was fighting to keep up appearances. (She was always fighting to keep up appearances.)

Grace nodded, standing up before letting Tessa lead her into the spare room. 

She knew the room well, had slept here before, but as Tessa turned to leave she found she didn’t want to be alone. She hesitated and Tessa caught her eye, her expression changing as she stepped back towards her. 

“I won’t let him get to you here,” Tessa comforted, taking Grace’s hand. 

Grace felt herself melt into that touch. She leaned forward into Tessa’s arms as all the strain of the evening caused a resurgence of tears and she found herself sobbing into Tessa’s shoulder, hands holding on to her desperately. 

“It’s okay,” Tessa soothed as she ran her fingers through Grace’s hair. 

Grace felt all the fight go out of her as the tears subsided, arms loosening but remaining around Tessa as she buried her face in Tessa’s neck, needing the comfort of contact.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered, the words strangled by guilt, shame, fear. 

Tessa exhaled, but it was uneven and Grace looked up at her, saw her usually unflappable friend hesitate. 

“Please,” Grace uttered, meeting Tessa’s eyes and watching her friend relent. 

Tessa nodded, shifting away and taking her arm before leading her into the master bedroom. She watched Tessa pull down the near side of the bed, gesturing that it was for her before she moved to the other side of the bed and grabbed pyjamas from a chair. 

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said as she made for the en-suite. 

* * *

Tessa looked at herself in the mirror, trying to ascertain what she was doing. She couldn't let her feelings for Grace cloud her judgement, but she also didn’t want them to stop her from comforting Grace. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the thrumming tension in her body before exhaling. She could manage the discomfort, she could do it for Grace.

When she came back to her side of the bed Grace was lying on her side facing her, eyes closed. As Tessa got in bed Grace opened her eyes, a weak smile crossing her features. 

“Thank you,” she offered softly. 

Tessa smiled indulgently back, brushing a stray hair from Grace’s face. 

“I would do anything for you, you know that,” she replied before pulling her hand away and turning onto her back. 

She felt Grace come up beside her and Tessa let her curl under her arm. The action itself was unremarkable, they had curled up together on the couch often enough, but her bed was not the couch and she could sense something odd in Grace as she nuzzled into her neck. 

* * *

Grace had stopped thinking, stopped pretending. She needed Tessa’s contact, her warmth. She nuzzled into her as Tessa’s scent calmed her, a conflicting intensity awakening she was too tired to ignore. Her lips brushed the skin of Tessa’s neck and the feel of it shot through her like a pulse of want, like a simple pleasure long denied. She tested it again, moving her head back up and brushing the skin with her lips as she heard Tessa’s heart thump harder in her chest. 

“What are you doing Grace?” Tessa asked, breathy and shaky. 

Grace pushed herself up so she was poised above Tessa, a hand easing along the edge of the older woman’s cheek as she watched her breath catch, her eyes go dark. 

* * * 

It was torture, Tessa decided, having Grace this close, lips against her neck as she tried to stop her body from reacting. 

Grace shifted up, touched her face, and Tessa could feel her whole body screaming with want but she took a deep breath, trying not to let her expression betray her. 

“Do you love me Tessa?,” Grace asked, eyes clear and dark. 

“Of course I do,” Tessa answered dismissively, averting her eyes in an attempt to stop the way the depth of Grace’s gaze was affecting her. 

“I love you too,” Grace uttered simply before her fingers traced her chin. 

Tessa looked back, locking eyes with Grace and falling into them as she tried to pull herself away. Breath caressed her lips but she couldn’t escape, giving in as she felt the definite pressure of Grace’s lips against her own. She succumb to the feeling of those lips, soft and tentative against her own, before regaining her head and pulling away - fighting every impulse that clamoured to give in. 

Grace looked upset, her face contorting in loss as she bit her lip and backed away.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Tessa explained, her voice deep. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Grace uttered simply as she leaned forward again, hands making for the collar of Tessa’s pyjamas. 

Tessa swallowed, her mind racing as Grace leaned back in, fingers against her neck before her lips followed, a shaky exhale passing Tessa’s lips as she tried to regain herself. 

“You’re not in your right state of mind,” Tessa argued as Grace’s lips traced a line from her neck to collarbone and then back to her ear. 

“Tessa please. I need you. I trust you,” Grace begged, breath hot against Tessa’s ear. 

Tessa pulled away to meet her eyes, dark with lust but seemingly lucid. She hesitated, wanting this but equally wanting to protect her. 

“Please,” Grace softly repeated, the desperate honesty of the request making Tessa’s decision as she allowed herself to succumb to her own desire. 

* * *

Grace wasn’t sure whether it was bravery or desperation, all she knew was that Tessa wanted her. She could see it in her eyes, feel it in the beat of her heart, and she wanted to feel that, wanted to be worshipped and cared for, wanted the light of Tessa’s feelings to fill this empty pain in her chest. 

When Tessa surged forward to meet her lips she knew she had it, felt a moment of fear at the prospect before her body rocketed through with flame. 

Her back fell to the bed as Tessa’s mouth moved from her lips to her neck, hands finding the edge of Grace’s shirt as she stopped, meeting her eyes with a dark and heady gaze. 

Grace wanted to be exposed beneath that gaze, to burn under the desire it betrayed. She pulled her shirt over her head before meeting Tessa’s lips again, urging her on, giving her permission. 

Tessa’s hands wandered across her bare chest with a reverence she had never experienced. The patient touch of her fingers avoided the worst of the bruises before her mouth followed the trail they had blazed, patterns of open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone, down her side, around her left nipple. She felt the heat of Tessa’s mouth above her right nipple and gave a soft groan in anticipation. Never had her entire body felt so perfectly electric. As Tessa’s lips closed on her nipple, tongue tracing around it, she knew she could not hold out much longer against the need this was creating between her thighs. 

“I need you to touch me,” Grace uttered, it coming out more strained than she had expected. 

Tessa released her nipple and looked up at her, hand resting on the bone of her right hip. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, and Grace recognised the lucidity in Tessa’s want. It almost hurt her to see because it meant she still had a choice, that Tessa would stop. This was still her decision. 

Grace hesitated. She knew that even this desire was wrong but she couldn’t help the way it completed something in her, Tessa’s love feeling more substantial than anything she had experienced, and she wanted to be filled by the force of it. 

She took Tessa’s hand, moving it below the elastic of the trousers, biting her lip as she nodded. Tessa shifted on the bed, looking up at Grace as she slowly pulled the trousers down and off as Grace forced her underwear to follow. 

Tessa paused for a moment, surveying her as if she was a work of art, before worshiping her with her hands again - up her thighs, over her hips and across her stomach as her lips followed.

“Please,” Grace begged. As much as she was absorbing every bit of affection from Tessa’s touch the ache inside her was quickly overshadowing her awareness of everything else. 

And then Tessa's fingers were inside her and everything dissolved into bliss as her body took over, driving her to a climax more intense than anything she had experienced. 

When she opened her eyes again Tessa was leaning over her with a concerned expression. She smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in a long while, and saw Tessa instantly relax. Tessa kissed her on the forehead before extricating herself from the sheets and heading to the bathroom, coming back a moment later and lying beside her. 

* * *

When Tessa came back to bed Grace shifted on her side and curled into her, her hands searching for skin. 

Tessa took the successful hand in her own. 

“Not tonight,” she said firmly. 

Grace met her eyes questioningly. 

“You need to rest,” she stated. 

“But surely…,” Grace began. 

Tessa nodded, trying not to acknowledge the insistent throb between her thighs. “Tomorrow. If you still want to.”

Grace frowned but returned to curl into Tessa’s shoulder and soon she could hear Grace’s soft even breathing. 

She thought about what had happened not without guilt, worrying about what the morning would bring, until sleep claimed her. 

* * *

When Grace awoke the next morning it took a moment for her to realise where she was, that the warm body she was expecting in bed wasn’t Dermot‘s. 

Tessa. 

She could still feel the remnants of her touch, still feel the way being with her had made her feel real - like she didn’t have anything to apologise for - but it was a dream, a bubble in reality that the morning had popped. 

She got out of bed and put on her underwear and trousers before padding softly downstairs. She heard the radio in the background of the kitchen and found Tessa sitting at the breakfast bar, reading the morning paper. 

“Morning,” she uttered softly, holding on to the doorway as if unsure her disturbance would be welcome. 

Tessa looked up at her, the connection warming her despite the cautious smile on Tessa’s lips. “How are you feeling?” She asked vaguely. “Sleep well?”

“Never better,” Grace replied, meeting Tessa’s eyes with a pointed smile. Yet the strength and happiness in that smile was a mirage that faded as she once again remembered the reality of her situation. 

She turned from Tessa and took a few steps into the room, helping herself to some coffee before sitting beside her, the air growing thick with her own anxiety. 

“I can’t leave him,” Grace uttered softly. 

Tessa turned to her. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line last night.” 

She was so restrained and matter of fact that Grace almost didn't understand what she was referring to. She shook her head, reaching out to cover Tessa’s hand with her own. 

“It’s not that. Last night was…” she raised her eyes to the ceiling trying to work out how to explain the fullness it had left in her. “I don’t regret what happened.”

“But?” Tessa prompted, raising her eyebrows. 

“But I can't leave him,” Grace confirmed. 

Tessa nodded, lips pressed in a thin line as she turned back to her paper, her hand moving to turn the page. 

* * *

Tessa had never presumed to think Grace would leave Dermot but, now that the idea was in her head, it festered. He would continue to hurt her and Tessa couldn’t abide it, couldn’t stand by and watch him take out his inadequacies on her over and over again. She also knew something Grace didn’t - he had multiple sclerosis and it would soon drag her into years of caring for a man who thought of her as little more than a trophy. 

But how could she stop it? 

The more she thought about it the more she realised she would do just about anything…

* 

A few weeks later Tessa’s doorbell rang in the early evening. She had just gotten home from work and hurriedly finished changing out of her scrubs with a ‘Be there in a moment,’ before she hurried downstairs and opened the door to see Grace outside. 

Grace smiled when Tessa answered. 

“What is it?” Tessa asked, brow furrowing as she tried to figure out what was wrong. 

Grace shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine. Dermot is away and the house is empty. I thought… I’m sorry I should’ve called.”

She turned to go but Tessa held out a hand to her arm to stop her. 

“Grace, you are always welcome,” she said as she stepped away from the entrance and let Grace enter. 

* * *

Grace didn’t ~~want to~~ think too much about showing up at Tessa’s unannouced. Dermot was away and she didn't want to be in that big house by herself. As Tessa escorted her into her living room, however, she realised what she had been missing wasn’t company in general but the warmth the other woman exuded, the sense of belonging that seemed painfully absent from her life, and all the more glaring when she was allowed to ruminate on it. 

They sat down on the couch with wine and takeaway and turned on the television. As the night progressed the barriers Grace had thrown up after last time slowly disintegrated and she was left with the same need for contact buzzing in the background like a faulty wire - subtle enough to be ignored until she recognised it for what it was. She curled up to Tessa on the couch but not even that was enough to satiate the itch in her brain, she needed to be closer. 

“You never did let me repay the favour,” she whispered in Tessa’s ear, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt as her hand found the skin above Tessa’s trousers.

Tessa looked at her suddenly, a mixture of shock and lust, as she shook her head. 

“I don't need a quid pro quo Grace,” she replied as she brushed her fingers through the hair edging Grace's face. “I did it because you asked me to. Because it was what you needed from me.”

“What about what you need?” she asked, meeting Tessa’s gaze and holding it purposefully as her hand found Tessa’s free hand and interlinked their fingers. 

Even that simple touch felt electric as she shifted, eyes dropping to Tessa’s lips as she tried not to second guess this thing they both wanted. 

The kiss was tentative, Grace still unsure if Tessa was going to push her away, but it was also tender, soft and full of a desperate care. Tessa broke the kiss and met Grace’s eyes. 

“Are you sure?” she asked breathily and Grace could feel the want from the other woman inflaming her own desire. 

She nodded and Tessa kissed her again, Grace moving to straddle her lap as her hands tangled in Tessa’s hair. 

Grace worried for a moment that she wouldn’t know how to do this, to please Tessa, but she let instinct guide her, fingers and lips tracing exposed skin as clothing heaped on the floor. 

* * * 

Grace’s head was between her legs, kissing and nipping the skin of her inner thighs as she tried not to squirm, tried not to command her closer to a need that had long become unbearable. And then she was there, the tentative swipe of a tongue causing Tessa to cry out, obscenities passing her lips she would apologise for later. Later. Now she let herself be controlled by Grace’s mouth, the pressure just shy of enough…. until it wasn’t and Tessa felt herself go rigid as the orgasm rushed through her, pushing her into the whiteness of infinite bliss. 

When she opened her eyes again Grace was seated beside her, half naked herself and looking at her expectantly. 

Tessa nodded, waiting for her mind to remember how to form words as she pulled her in to another kiss. 

* * * 

Dermot seemed happy that Grace and Tessa had become such good friends and, worried that he was neglecting her, encouraged Grace to spend the night with Tessa when he was working late. At first Grace refused, his offer sounding too much like she needed a minder, but eventually she gave in to her own loneliness, convincing herself it didn’t mean anything beyond the fleeting comfort of the evening even as she grew more reliant on their time together.

The first time it happened she brushed it off as a fluke. Dermot had turned to her in bed, desire in his eyes and she let him despite her reluctance because that was his right surely? She soon found herself picturing Tessa’s fingers instead of Dermot’s and continued with the fantasy, using the idea of Tessa to come even as her husband thrust above her. 

She lie in bed afterwards, recognition screaming unheard in her brain as guilt churned in her stomach. 

She stopped having sex with Tessa, putting her slip down to the relative frequency of their actions, but it kept happening, her repressed desire making the fantasy even more tangible until one night she forgot herself and called out Tessa’s name in the dark - needy and wanting.

Dermot’s response was terrifying on a completely new scale and she found herself cowered in the corner, trying to ward off the snap of the belt, the welts covering her body outwards signs of the moniker of ‘immoral slut’ she knew she deserved. 

She wasn’t sure how long after he drove off that she was able to move, shaking from cold and fear in the corner as she tried to regain some semblance of self. 

When she finally regained her ability to move she ran to Tessa. She was at work but Grace found her with ease as Tessa made it all seem above-board - called for her junior to cover her shift and pulled her into a free treatment room. 

Tessa unwound the carefully placed scarf with tentative fingers revealing the finger prints Dermot had left along her neck and collarbone. She turned from Grace then, covering her face for a moment before turning back - as if she hadn’t seen something similar dozens of times before. 

“He knows what we’ve done,” Grace whispered, “I didn’t mean to I…”

Tessa looked so helpless, so distraught, as she met Grace’s eyes. Grace could see the emotion in them that she usually kept hidden, buried beneath the facade of what was proper. 

“What did he do to you?” she uttered softly. 

“It doesn’t matter now, I deserved it,” Grace nodded, tears welling in her eyes. 

Tessa cupped her cheek. “Grace, no one deserves this,” she replied pointedly, meeting her eyes again. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m safe now,” Grace responded softly as she stepped closer, feeling that need for connection, for the warmth of Tessa’s touch even as the guilt from that want burned within her. 

She brought her lips to Tessa’s, feeling the older woman’s resistance crumble as the soft touch grew urgent, wanting. 

* * *

Tessa could feel Grace’s pain in that kiss and it cemented something inside of her. 

She registered the sound of the door a moment too late, breaking apart to see one of the nurses staring at them open-mouthed. He immediately turned to leave but Tessa followed him, pulling him into a nearby room. 

“I don’t care what you thought you saw in there but whatever you think it is none of your business and would be breaking of patient confidentiality,” Tessa threatened. 

“Good try Dr Jellicoe, I know she isn’t on your list for the day,” he responded flippantly. 

She stood taller, harnessing all her commanding strength. “I can make things very difficult for you and in the end it is just your word against ours and trust me when I tell you I have friends in very high places.”

To her relief he swallowed and after a moment trying to stare her down, nodded. 

She turned and left, returning to Grace and soothing the concerns in her wide eyes. 

“He won’t tell but Grace you need to leave Dermot, I can protect you,” she begged. She knew it was desperation talking but she couldn’t bear to see Dermot hurt her again. 

Grace shook her head, bitting her bottom lip. 

“I can’t Tessa, I’m not strong like you, I can’t be like you,” she uttered. 

Tessa nodded, disappointment and fear for Grace’s well-being eating at her. 

She tended every welt and cut, kissing each gently before moving on to the next as Grace smiled at her endearingly. When she finished Grace insisted on going back, on being home before Dermot got back and found her gone. Tessa reluctantly let her go, knowing she was helpless to save her and hating it with every fibre of her being.

With Grace gone she returned to her desk, pulled up a website she had visited a while back, the idea no longer seeming too extreme.

* * *

Grace had kissed her husband goodbye moments before he went to his car, moments before it exploded, killing him instantly. 

After the police left there was another knock on the door. She wanted to ignore it, to tell whoever it was to go fuck themselves, but decorum insisted she answer, insisted she show politeness despite the shock that had shaken her to her core. 

She opened the door to see Tessa staring there. She took one look at Grace and quickly stepped inside, shutting the door behind her before wrapping Grace in her arms. Grace let herself relax into Tessa’s embrace, collapsing in mind and body as tears wracked her frame. 

“I’m so scared Tessa," she repeated as Tessa held her close. 

* 

She bore the ceremony, every movement feeling distant, like the actions of some other person. She wasn’t sure if that feeling was part of mourning or if it was the pills Tessa had given her but either way she managed. She remained civil to her husband’s first wife Maureen, which was easier in this numbed state even though the older woman insisted on grating against every unwritten rule of polite society. 

She had been keeping her distance from Tessa, knowing that other woman’s presence made her weak, but Tessa saw her with Maureen at the wake and pulled her away. Grace tried to school her features as Tessa brought her to speak to the Inspector and his wife, purposely mentioning the pills Tessa had given her in case something seemed off, inwardly relieved to have her by her side. 

“Tessa is my tower of strength,” she asserted as the Inspector tried to contextualise Tessa’s connection. 

The statement felt freeing, as if Tessa being beside her nullified the hundreds of anxieties brought to light by Dermot’s death. 

The moment was broken as Inspector Lynley asked to speak to her about her husband’s death. She escorted the four of them into the garden, answering the necessary questions easily enough. It wasn’t until Maureen pulled her away, severing the tenuous connection to Tessa, that the reality of her situation came flooding back - this woman using the implication of Dermot’s hostilities to bully her way into staying. 

Maureen continued to prod her when they were alone, insisting that Dermot slept with anything with a pulse, that his generosity was merely guilt. Grace knew she was angry, knew she was just trying to get back at them for what she and Dermot had done to her all those years ago, but Grace felt herself fracturing beneath the continued bombardment. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she finally snapped, hoping she would take this most obvious of hints, “but how long are you thinking of staying?”

“Till the will is read,” Maureen replied. 

“The will?” she repeated, shocked that she would expect something after all this time. 

“Catholic guilt, running through him like a stick of rock. He’ll see me right,” Maureen countered. 

Grace felt the other woman’s insistence like another chisel blow, chipping away at her ever thinning façade. 

The doorbell rang, allowing her an escape and she jumped up to answer it, to free herself from Maureen, however fleetingly. She opened the door to see Tessa and for a moment the tension melted from her. 

“I thought a casserole wouldn’t go amiss, don’t suppose you feel like cooking,” Tessa offered as she stepped forward, casserole in hand. 

Maureen plowed in front of Grace. “Bit late though, or we’d invite you in,” Maureen stated, taking the casserole from Tessa. 

“It’s only half past nine, stay, stay for a glass of wine,” Grace insisted, trying to maintain an air of normality even as every part of her screamed for the comfort of Tessa’s presence. 

“You’ve just lost your husband,” Maureen countered. “You need your rest, right doctor?” she added, trying to make Tessa complicit in her bullying. 

“I thought you might like company,” Tessa replied, meeting Grace’s eyes for the briefest of moments. It was a fleeting reminder of how Tessa made her feel and it disarmed her, reminded her of her guilt. 

“She’s got company,” Maureen insisted and Grace knew she couldn’t push it, knew she couldn’t expose this thing inside her. 

“Well…uh… another time then,” Grace finally responded as Maureen put the casserole in her arms and Tessa looked on helplessly. 

Maureen shut the door as Tessa walked away, Grace looking back as often as she dared. 

 

Maureen had been right, he had changed his will three months ago leaving everything but the house to Maureen. Grace felt another blow to her façade, their life together being revealed in all it’s fractured glory. What had happened and how could she not know? 

She went back to the house and found his documents including a letter from 3 months ago - MS. 

She went straight to Tessa and read it to her. Tessa admitted that she had known but Dermot had told her in confidence and she had to respect his wishes. The reasoning didn’t matter though - Tessa had lied to her for three months. 

Maureen had known too, exposed that truth in front of Inspector Lynley, leaving her feeling like the only person who hadn’t know what was happening to her husband as another chip fell from the façade of her life. 

Maureen detailed her conversation with Dermot to Inspector Lynley as Grace sat opposite, shaking with pain and the anger as everything around her was exposed. Maureen started insinuating that Grace had killed him, pointing to the life insurance money and the fact she wouldn’t have to deal with his illness as motives. 

“I loved him,” she lashed out. 

“So did I,” Maureen countered. 

“Even though he beat you?” Detective Havers asked, coming down from the stairs and handing photos to Inspector Lynley. 

Grace felt her heart hammering in her ears. Why had she let them search the room? 

Inspector Lynley asked Maureen about the photos.

“My doctor’s idea, in case I plucked up the courage to charge,” Maureen explained. 

Grace thought of Tessa, of how many times she had begged her to leave him. 

“Is that how it was for you too?” Detective Havers asked.

Grace could feel herself shaking as each moment threatened to shatter the semblance of her life she was trying to maintain. 

“Certainly not,” Grace insisted. 

“Come on Gracie, the man beat’us to a pulp,” Maureen barked, her voice loud, quivering with it’s own rage. 

“That’s enough!,” Grace snapped. 

“He was always sorry,” Maureen continued, softer. “Always buying the little forgive and forget presents. Silver for me and ornaments for you. And every time the remorse: ‘I wish I could stop, I wish to god I could change Maureen’.”

“I want you out of my house, now,” Grace commanded, decorum forgotten as the anger and exposure boiled inside her. 

“Fine with me!,” Maureen agreed - packing and leaving immediately, the detectives following. 

As she heard the Inspector’s car fade into the distance she leaned against the wall, sliding down to a seated position as she tried to put herself back together. Everything had been exposed, everything except that last little bit of her, hidden in layers of self-hatred. 

She tried to look on the bright side - she would never need to be afraid of his rage. But the rage was part of the stability, and now she had nothing but this house and that scared her more than he did. 

She wanted to hurt him, hurt him for betraying her, hurt him for leaving, hurt him for never really caring about her. He did care in his own way, she supposed, but it felt like another part of the endless play they both performed. A play she couldn’t support on her own. 

*

She dropped the ceramic piece he had given her just before he died as Tessa watched, needing the shatter to release something in her, disappointed when it only added to her feeling of unrest. 

“It’s a new chapter Gracie, for both of us,” Tessa tried to comfort but her words resonated with that horrible thing within her. 

“What do you mean for both of us?” she asked, pretending to be confounded. 

Tessa looked at her confused. 

“We can be together now Gracie, I can take care of you,” Tessa replied. 

Grace furrowed her brow and turned away, moving to pace behind the couches. 

“My husband died Tessa, you think I’m going to betray him and my marriage? Well I’m not,” she stated, pausing in her pacing to look at Tessa before her gaze grew hazy and distant, something within her trying to break through as she forced it away. 

Tessa got up, tried to touch her shoulder, but she pulled it away. “Let’s get some air Grace.”

Grace reluctantly agreed. The house felt stuffy and she could feel the betrayal (of Dermot, of Tessa) churning in her stomach and making her feel ill. 

The air helped somewhat, although the gardens were still part of the prison, part of the only thing she had left.

They walked in silence for a bit before Tessa spoke again. 

“You don’t have to leave him, he’s gone,” Tessa pointed out softly. “You know I love you Grace,” she added as she tried to take Grace’s arm. “Let me take care of you.”

Grace pulled away, stopping where they stood and turning to her. “It’s not love it’s control,” she bit back - the two approaching figures in the background barely registering in her perception as she tried to contain everything she was feeling. She knew Tessa cared about her, but it was another trap and a more dangerous one. With Tessa she could never pretend that everything was normal. 

As the police inspectors came up to them she tried to focus, to fight this thing inside her, but it was all a mash of sounds until she heard ‘kissing Mrs Finnegan’. The world snapped into panicked focus as Tessa and the others looked at her.

She felt the shame well up inside her. 

“We had a relationship, yes, I ended it,” she replied, lying about ending it even as she tried to pretend it was not shocking, that the guilt, the _sin_ of it wasn’t eating away at her. 

“Which is none of their business,” Tessa condescended, gazing pointedly at Grace. Even that felt like support, like a small piece of stable ground she was loathe to stand on. 

The inspectors turned to Tessa and began asking specific questions about a hospital sharps bin and her whereabouts as the pieces clicked into place. She had killed Dermot. 

“You had no right,” Grace lashed out, lunging at her to be stopped by Inspector Lynley. The betrayal of it burning inside her as that last piece of stable ground shattered beneath her. 

“You would never have left him,” Tessa tried to justify. “Sixteen years she put up with it. His usual thing, men like Finnegan it’s all about power, and the same old pattern - he’d be okay for months and then he’d loose it and you’d come running back- ‘Take care of me Tessa but don’t tell anyone cause I love him and it’s not his fault’.”

“I did love him,” she replied tersely, wondering why it was past tense, why she could feel nothing beyond the fact that Tessa had betrayed her. 

“Yes but it was his fault,” Tessa responded. 

“Then you found out that he had MS,” Detective Havers pointed out

“Yes and for a moment I thought maybe there is a god. We could be together,” Tessa admitted, and there it was again - ‘we’ why did she not understand there could never be a ‘we’. “But then it hit me, if you hadn’t left him when he was healthy you’d never leave him now. Not in your nature,” Tessa continued. 

“Why didn’t you report it to the police that she was being beaten?” Inspector Lynley asked and Tessa looked down before raising her eyes to Grace. 

“I wouldn’t let her,” Grace explained. “He wasn’t a bad man, he loved me.”

“You see, that’s what I couldn’t stand, the idea of this sweet sweet woman tending that animal for years and years and years,” Tessa explained. 

“So you killed the man I loved and then what, Hum?” she snapped, “You and me together forever, happily ever after? You’re just like him pulling the strings trying to manipulate me.” It was all the same, everyone around her lied under the auspices of protecting her, nothing had ever been real. 

“No, I did it for you,” Tessa protested leaning forward but Inspector Lynley stepped in front of her. 

“The attack on my wife and on Havers, that was you too was you too,” he accused. 

“God in heaven why?” Grace exclaimed as she realised the extent of what Tessa had done, of how little she had known about the one person she had depended on. 

“To make it seem like there was some connection between Finnegan’s death and one of his past cases,” Lynley explained. 

“I never meant for your wife to loose the baby, I’ll regret that every day but not what I did to Finnegan, not what I did for you. You wouldn’t listen Grace,” Tessa protested. 

“No you wouldn’t listen,” Grace bit back, sick of being told what was best for her and even more sick of the pit in her stomach that grew wider as she realised even the person she trusted the most had no trust in her, no respect for her decision. “I loved him, not you, him,” she lied, desperately trying to repair her own faith in her husband, in the façade that had long since crumbed to dust around her. “If other people don’t understand too bad, he was mine for better and for worse.”

“He would never have changed,” Tessa pointed out. 

“You’re wrong, he had changed, he had. He was trying to make things right, hadn’t laid a finger on me for months,” she stated. It was half true. The only time he had had been her fault, had been the night she called out for Tessa in their bed. “It was my marriage Tessa. My life. You stole my life.” It felt like the truest thing she had said, Tessa had made her feel and then betrayed her. The ball of self-hate within her ruptured, leaving her drowning in her own darkness.  
As they took Tessa away her steps brought her to the outhouse, fingers at the keys of the gun cupboard as she took out a shotgun and ran after them, knowing only that she needed Tessa gone from her life, erased. It was the only way for her to recover, Tessa was the living reminder of her body’s transgression and without her all these feelings would go away. They had to. 

“Tessa,” she called as she raised the gun and aimed. “You had no right.”

The world slowed as she pulled the trigger and watched Havers step in front of Tessa, fall with the impact of the bullet. 

The uniformed officers advanced on her and she knew she was lost. Tessa was alive and she had killed a cop. There was no way of saving herself, no way of pretending everything was okay. The darkness pulled her closer, whispering of the one possibility for escape, for redemption. She felt the tears on her cheek as the gun cocked, the barrel cold under her chin, and then nothing. 

* * * 

Tessa watched Grace fall, the shock of it overwhelming everything else as she was pushed into the police car. They drove past the body and she knew there was no way Grace survived. She crumbled beneath the waste of it all. She hadn’t cared what Grace thought, could manage prison even if Grace hated her because she knew she had saved her, but that small victory had been stolen from her. Grace had taken her life rather than face the truth. Tessa’s world felt black and formless, bars squeezing closer even before she was locked away.


End file.
